Excavation
by hughville
Summary: House is an archaeologist in charge of a dig in Dendara, Egypt. When Allison Cameron joins the dig, things begin to go very wrong. Will House and Cameron survive when someone begins sabotaging the dig?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own House or any of the characters. I did research archaeology and Dendara. This is COMPLETELY AU.**

The sun beat down on the endless expanse of sand. Ribbons of heat shimmered in the distance. The jeep bounced over the sand. Allison Cameron gripped the edge of the window to keep from being jostled too much. In the distance, she could see the excavation site. Excitement coursed through her. She was about to begin working on her first dig. The professor in charge of the excavation was named Greg House. Allison had read several of his articles and was thrilled to be working with him. To be chosen as a member of his team was a major accomplishment.

The driver stopped the jeep and jumped out to retrieve her bag. Allison opened the door and stepped out onto the blistering sand. She tucked a stray strand of glossy brown hair behind her ear and adjusted her sunglasses to protect her blue-green eyes from the blinding sun. Tilting her hat to protect her face, she smiled and thanked the driver. He nodded and got back into the jeep. As he drove away, Allison made her way to the edge of the excavation. Several archaeologists worked at removing sand from the site.

"Are you Allison Cameron?" a deep voice questioned.

Allison turned and looked at the man who had asked the question. Tall and thin, he wore khaki pants, a long sleeved khaki shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sturdy boots, a hat and sunglasses. Allison noticed he had several days' growth of beard. He smiled and dimples appeared on each side of his mouth.

"Yes," she told him.

"Greg House," he responded, holding out his hand.

Allison slid her hand in his. A slight shock of electricity jolted up her arm as his fingers closed over hers.

"Welcome to Dendara," he told her.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Let me show you to your tent." He turned and led her toward the tents a short distance away.

He lifted the flap of one of the tents and stood back to allow her to enter. She looked around the tent as he fastened the flaps back. A table sat in the middle with a cot and smaller table to one side. A battery operated lamp sat on the small table.

"You can set up your equipment in here," he told her. "We usually return to town around sunset and return each day at sunrise. Sometimes we work after dark, but only if we've discovered a particularly interesting find. We're phasing the site at the moment."

Allison realized that she was coming in near the beginning of the dig if they were still phasing the site. She would get to dig in phase and discover artifacts along with the others.

"I hope you have a strong back," Greg laughed.

Allison laughed. She knew phasing a site required the removal of sand and since she didn't see any machines to do it that meant they were using buckets and doing it by hand.

"I do," she assured him.

"Good. I'll show you the site."

He tilted his head and groaned softly. Pulling off his sunglasses, he rubbed his right eye. Allison suppressed a gasp. He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

"Damn sand," he grimaced. "It gets in every crevice." He blinked several times, closed his right eye and rubbed it again.

He sat down on the cot. "Can you see anything in my eye?"

Allison swallowed and leaned near him. He opened his eyes wide. When she didn't come nearer, he heaved an impatient sigh and pulled her between his legs.

"You're not going to see it from way over there," he told her. Tilting his head back, he looked up at her. "Well? Do you see anything?"

Allison was intensely aware of his muscled thighs resting against her legs. She reached up and gently lifted his right eyelid. She saw a dark eyelash caught beneath the lid.

"You have an eyelash caught under the lid," she told him.

"Well, get it out."

Allison looked at him. For all his earlier kindness, she could tell that he could be demanding and even a little ruthless. Pressing her lips together to keep herself from telling him off, she rubbed her finger gently against the lash line of his eye. The trapped lash moved slightly but remained lodged under his eyelid. He made a tiny sound of discomfort and grabbed her waist. She brushed her finger along the edge of his lashes again. Slowly, she worked the lash free. Each time her finger brushed against his eye, his fingers tightened on her waist. When she finished, she looked at his eye. It was red and watering. Without thinking, she reached out and wiped the tears from his cheek. His eyes locked with hers and he leaned toward her. His mouth was inches from hers when he shook his head slightly and pulled back.

Allison moved back so he could stand. He replaced his sunglasses and walked out of the tent. She followed him to the site fuming slightly. He couldn't even say thank you!

"You can start there," he said pointing to his right at an empty section of the site. He walked off in the opposite direction. Allison carefully made her way to the section he indicated. She picked up a shovel and began to carefully scrape the sand away from the edge of a ledge. She scooped it up and dumped it into a nearby bucket.

"Hi," a friendly voice said at her shoulder.

Allison turned and looked at the young man standing behind her. He held out his hand. "I'm Rob," he told her, smiling.

Allison grasped his hand and shook it briefly. "Allison," she told him.

Rob leaned against his shovel and continued to smile at her. He was tall, with broad shoulders, blonde hair, green eyes and a full beard that hid the lower half of his face. Like the others, he wore khaki pants, a lightweight shirt and heavy boots.

"Where are you from, Allison?" he asked.

"Chicago," she replied.

"I'm from Australia," he told her.

Allison smiled and turned back to scoop up another shovel full of sand.

"I'll help you," he told her.

They worked quietly for some time, shoveling up the sand and transferring it to the bucket. When the bucket was full, Allison grasped one handle while Rob grasped the other. They had barely taken three steps when Greg called out to them.

"Chase," he said, striding over to them. "I need you to help Hadley."

"Okay, Professor," Rob Chase replied. "I'll be right there." He and Allison started to walk toward the dump site.

Greg reached out and closed his hand over the handle of the bucket.

"Now,"' he told the younger man.

Chase nodded and smiled sheepishly at Allison. "Sure thing, Professor," he said.

Greg watched him lope over to where a slender brunette was shoveling sand into a bucket.

He turned to look at Allison. "Chase is a bit of a womanizer," he told her. "Stay away from him."

Allison felt an irrational tide of anger wash over her.

"Maybe I like womanizers," she told him.

Greg laughed softly. He began walking to the dump site. Allison trudged along beside him balancing the bucket between them.

"No you don't," he replied, amusement still evident in his voice. "You just don't want me telling you who to spend time with." He paused and they tipped the bucket over. The sand slid out and formed a small dune. "Good for you," he told her quietly. He carried the bucket back to the area where she had been working and picked up a shovel. She watched as he began shoveling sand into the bucket. A hot flicker of desire shot through her as she watched his muscles flexing beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. She shook her head and walked over to join him. They worked in silence. They emptied the bucket three times before he stuck his shovel in the sand and rubbed his back.

"Break time," he told her. He pursed his lips and issued a piercing whistle. The other members of the team stopped working and headed toward the tents. There were five others besides Greg and Allison . She'd met Chase and she recognized the brunette Greg had referred to as Hadley. There was another man and two more women. They all gathered in the largest tent and pulled water bottles from a cooler. Chase smiled and offered one to Allison.

"Thank you," she told him, smiling up at him. She glanced at Greg out of the corner of her eye. He'd removed his hat and sunglasses and sat regarding her with a frown. She saw he had short brown hair streaked with grey. She turned away from the look of disapproval in his bright blue eyes.

"Allison Cameron has joined us today," he told the others. "She's come from Chicago. She's replacing Eric Foreman."

Greg pointed toward the young brunette. "That's Remy Hadley," he said.

Allison smiled at the young woman.

"Nice to have you with us, Allison," Remy told her with a warm smile. Remy was tall and thin with slanted blue eyes that shone with humor.

"Thank you," Allison replied warmly.

"You've met Robert Chase," Greg continued. He indicated the other man. "That's James Wilson.'

Wilson smiled and held out his hand. Allison shook it and smiled at him. He was good looking in a boyish way with heavy brows, dark eyes and brown hair that fell across his forehead. "Actually, you can call me Jimmy," he told her with a grin.

"Forget it, Wilson," Greg smirked. "She won't be the fourth Mrs. Wilson."

Wilson released Allison's hand and looked at Greg. "At least I can hold on to a woman for more than the length of a lap dance."

The other woman held out her hand to Allison. "I'm Amber Volakis," she told Allison. She was also tall with long blonde hair that hung down her back in a braid. Her soft blue eyes glinted with humor and intelligence. Allison knew instantly that she liked this woman and they would be friends.

Allison shook Amber's hand and smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Amber," she responded.

"I'm Amunet Chedid," the second woman told her. She was obviously Egyptian and quite beautiful with long black hair, olive skin and dark eyes.

Allison nodded at her. "I'm pleased to meet you, Amunet."

Amunet smiled and rose to sit beside Greg. She placed her hand on his leg and began talking quietly to him. Allison laughed quietly at the other woman's blatant display. Amunet was letting Allison know that Greg belonged to her. He turned to ask Wilson a question and Allison realized he seemed completely unaware that Amunet had silently branded him as her personal property. He brushed Amunet's hand from his thigh and stood.

"All right,' he said. "Let's get back to work. That sand won't shift itself into the buckets."

They rose and moved back to the site. Greg walked beside Allison. They resumed digging side by side.

The sun hovered above the horizon casting a rich golden glow over the sand when Allison heard the jeeps approaching. Greg straightened up and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his face and then turned to Allison. He held her chin in his hand and gently wiped her face. He moved his hand to her shoulder and slowly wiped the handkerchief down her throat. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart rate increased. Dipping his head, he looked at her over the top of his sunglasses.

"You had sand on your face," he whispered. His thumb caressed her shoulder through the material of her shirt. Allison shivered slightly at his touch.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smile. He felt that shiver and knew she wasn't cold.

"And my neck?" she asked sharply, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. "Was there sand on my neck, too?"

He laughed a low, throaty laugh. "No," he told her in a low voice. "I just wanted to touch you."

Allison pulled away from him and turned to pick up the equipment lying at their feet. They'd gotten the sand shifted and had begun the slow process of determining the edges of the ancient village.

Greg crouched beside her and helped her gather up the trowels and brushes. His hand brushed against hers repeatedly as they gathered the equipment and put it into the carry all. Allison had to force herself to breathe normally. He was entirely too sure of himself for her peace of mind; and entirely too sexy. When all the tools were put away, he sat back on his haunches and laughed softly.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he told her with amusement. He rose to his feet and emitted a sharp whistle, then began trudging across the sand to where the jeeps were parked. Allison slung the carry all over her shoulder and followed him.

The others were loading equipment into the backs of the jeeps when Allison walked up. One by one the jeeps pulled away with the members of the team. Finally, only Greg and Allison were left along with the driver of the last jeep. They loaded the last of the equipment into the back of the jeep. Greg stood back to allow Allison to climb in the back seat of the jeep. He swung in beside her and dropped a backpack onto the front seat.

"You're not riding in the front seat?" she asked him.

He removed his sunglasses and hat before turning to smile at her. "Apparently not," he responded with that same knowing smile. He crowded closer to her, his leg and hip brushing against hers in the tight confines of the jeep. She looked up into his bright blue eyes. He cocked an eyebrow and his smile widened.

"Aren't you dating Amunet?" she asked him, trying to ignore his body rubbing against hers each time the jeep bounced over the sand.

"I occasionally sleep with Amunet," he told her, looking out at the sinking sun. "But, no, we're not dating."

"Ah," she replied. "So, you're thinking I might sleep with you occasionally, too?"

He turned and smiled at her. "I'm actually hoping it might be more than occasionally."

"I just met you," she laughed.

He shrugged. "So? You are extremely pretty."

She laughed again. "Let's get to know each other first," she told him. "Then we'll see what happens."

"You're a hard woman, Allison Cameron," he laughed. He nodded. "I will abide by your terms, though. And in the interest of getting to know each other better, you'll have dinner with me. In my room."

Allison laughed again and shook her head. "I'll have dinner with you in the hotel dining room."

He groaned in mock agony and leaned down until his mouth brushed her ear. "Hard," he whispered, his warm breath fanning her skin. Allison closed her eyes as his lips brushed lightly against the sensitive skin beside her ear. He drew back and slid his arm around her. She shook her head and laughed again. It was going to be an interesting three months.


	2. Chapter 2

Greg looked around the hotel dining room. He spotted Allison at a corner table. Winding his way through the tables, he stopped in front of her and smiled. Her eyes flicked up to his and then down at the wine glass in front of her. He pulled out a chair and sat down. The server approached him and Greg ordered a beer.

Leaning back in his chair, he regarded Allison through hooded eyes. She really was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her dark hair spilled in glossy curls over her shoulders and was pulled back from her face with a wide brown headband. The golden tint of her skin made her eyes appear the color of the clear Mediterranean Sea. She wore a soft brown vest over a floral printed top with short puffed sleeves. Her long, slender fingers toyed with the stem of her wine glass.

"You came," he remarked.

"I said I would," she told him.

He leaned forward and casually placed his hand on the table next to hers. "We'd be more comfortable in my room," he said, tracing a pattern on the table cloth.

"I'm comfortable here," she laughed.

His low seductive laugh washed over her causing white hot desire to stab through her. She leaned back in her chair and rested her hands in her lap.

He reached out and picked up her glass. He took a long drink from it and set it in front of her again. Leaning back, he smiled at her. Allison looked at him for several long moments before picking up the glass and draining it. Looking into his eyes, she licked a ruby drop from the rim of the glass.

He laughed appreciatively.

The server brought a bottle of beer and another glass of red wine. He set the wine down in front of Allison and the beer in front of Greg. He then placed menus on the table in front of them.

Allison picked hers up and hid behind it, pretending to read the dinner choices. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. A long finger hooked over the top of her menu and pulled it down. She looked into Greg's gleaming blue eyes.

"I heard that," he told her, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Maybe I'm trying to decide what I want to eat," she replied sharply. A smile took the edge off her words.

"And maybe you want me," he replied with a roguish grin.

Snapping the menu back up, she closed her eyes. He was right. She did want him.

_Infuriating man_, she thought. Then she laughed.

The server returned and they placed their orders. Allison ordered ravioli and Greg chose the puttanesca.

While they waited for their food, Greg asked question after question about her. Allison found herself relaxing as she told him about her life. She grew up in Chicago and nearly chose a career in medicine.

"Beautiful women like you don't become doctors," Greg grinned.

The server approached the table with their dinners and they ate in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Allison put down her fork and looked at him. "Why don't you think beautiful women become doctors?"

"They're usually damaged in some way," he replied. "Are you damaged?"

Shaking her head, she lifted her fork and speared ravioli. "Isn't everyone?"

Greg laughed. "Yeah, I suppose so."

Allison popped the ravioli in her mouth and tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that he watched every move she made.

"Are you damaged?" she asked. Reaching out, she picked up her wine glass and took at sip.

"Do I look damaged?" he countered with a seductive grin.

Allison laughed. "Very."

"Then I'm very damaged," he laughed.

"Tell me about you," she said reaching for the bread. "I told you about myself."

"If I do, will you sleep with me tonight?"

"No. But if you don't tell me, I won't be able to get to know you…." her voice trailed off and she smiled at him.

As they finished their dinner, she asked the questions and he answered them. He was a fascinating and complex man. Allison learned that he was incredibly intelligent and that he almost chose a career in medicine. When she asked him why he chose archaeology instead, he smiled.

"Artifacts don't lie."

Allison frowned and he shrugged. "Everybody lies," he told her.

"That's a very cynical view of people."

The server interrupted them at that moment. They both turned down dessert and coffee. Quickly and efficiently, the server cleared the table and said he would return momentarily with the check.

Greg watched the young man leave and then turned back to Allison. "I suppose you think there's good in everyone."

"I suppose you think that makes me naive."

He shook his head. "Actually I think it's very sexy."

Allison smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand lightly. He looked at her and smiled. His fingers closed around hers and his thumb stroked her palm. Tiny tendrils of desire radiated away from the rhythmic stroking of his thumb. Her lips parted and she briefly closed her eyes.

The server returned with the check. Greg signed it and stood. Allison rose and took his outstretched hand. He pulled her close to his side.

"We have to get up early," he whispered. "We should go to bed."

Something about the way he said the last sentence made her weak with desire.

He led her from the dining room to the elevators. She was intensely aware of his warm hand enveloping hers, his clean scent, and the energy radiating from him. She couldn't recall being so aware of a man before. The elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside. Greg reached across her and pressed the elevator button for their floor. He stood next to her watching the display above the door.

"I want to kiss you," he told her. "But I'm going to wait until we know each other better."

She nodded. "That's probably a good idea," she replied.

The doors slid open revealing the hallway. They stepped out and began walking down the silent corridor. Allison laughed when he stopped in front of the room next to hers.

"Your room is next door to mine?" she asked in amusement.

"Fate is funny, don't you think?" he asked with a smile.

"Fate is funny," she replied. "Especially since I was told the room next to mine was empty."

Greg smiled at her. "Really?'

"Really."

"Hmm, that's quite interesting."

"That's not the word I'd have chosen," she told him. "These rooms share a bathroom."

"You don't say?"

Allison looked at him. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"You switched rooms," she accused him.

"I might have needed a different room because the one I was in was unacceptable."

"And what was unacceptable about it?" she asked.

He leaned down and she again felt his warm breath against her ear. "It was too far away from yours," he whispered.

Allison laughed in spite of herself. Her laughter died when she felt his mouth moving against her cheek.

"You said you weren't going to kiss me until we knew each other better," she gasped.

He smiled into her eyes. "Everybody lies," he told her.

His mouth pressed gently against hers. Her arms slid around his waist. She felt his hands slide up her back. When his tongue brushed against her lower lip, her mouth parted and his tongue slid in. He gently stroked his tongue against hers, pulling it into his mouth. Molten desire coursed through her, causing her to shake. She pulled away from him when his hand closed over her breast. She looked down and saw he had unbuttoned her shirt. She pulled the edges closed and dug in her pocket for her room key.

"Goodnight," she whispered slipping into her room.

"Goodnight, Allison," he replied, amusement evident in his voice.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Allison awoke to light flooding over her bed and the sound of running water. She groaned and rolled onto her back. The bathroom door was partially open and someone was in the shower. Realization flooded over her. Not just any someone but Greg. She'd locked the bathroom door last night and the sneaky man must have picked the lock or gotten a key. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The water shut off and she saw his hand reach for a towel. Her breath left her when he stepped into view. The towel was wrapped around his narrow waist and water from his hair dripped onto his broad shoulders. Grabbing another towel, he began to rub his hair dry. Allison watched in fascination as his biceps bulged. Tossing the towel on the floor, he ran his fingers through his nearly dry hair. The towel around his waist began to slip and he adjusted it drawing attention to his flat, muscled stomach. Slowly, Allison sat up and pushed her hair off her face. She could see his long heavily muscled legs and the muscles rippling across his back as he turned to pull an electric razor out of his toiletries bag. Plugging it in, he began to sing as he trimmed his beard.

"You did this on purpose," she accused loudly.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she saw a small smile curve his lips. He continued to trim his beard. She narrowed her eyes in exasperation when she realized he was purposely ignoring her.

_Well_, she thought, _two can play this game_.

She pushed the covers back and stalked toward the bathroom. She scowled at him and his smile widened. He thought he had her, the arrogant ass. Smiling sweetly at him, she gently closed the door, locked it and grabbed the desk chair. She wedged it under the doorknob. The razor stopped buzzing and a few moments later she heard him trying to pick the lock. Sauntering back to bed, she heard him curse loudly when the door wouldn't open. She slipped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. As she drifted back to sleep, she could hear Greg trying to get the bathroom door open.

Allison felt the bed dip and burrowed deeper under the covers.

"You are a very naughty archaeologist," Greg whispered in her ear.

She sat up in bed and blinked at him. Glancing at the bathroom door, she saw it was closed and the chair was still wedged under the doorknob. Allison looked at Greg who sat on her bed with the towel wrapped around his waist.

"How-" she began when Greg leaned in and kissed her. She was too startled to respond but his clean scent made her slightly dizzy.

Greg pulled back and smiled at her. "The bathroom door isn't the only way into your room, you know. All I had to do was go out into the hallway and wait for a maid. She was only too happy to let me back into _my_ room since I'd managed to get myself locked out."

Allison bounced off the bed and folded her arms. "You broke into my room?"

"Weren't you listening? The maid let me in. So, technically, I didn't break in."

Allison opened her mouth to yell at him but instead took a deep breath and expelled it. So, he wanted to play games, did he? Well, she could play his game. She knew she couldn't keep him out of her room and to be honest she wasn't sure she wanted to keep him out. Slowly, she unfolded her arms and walked over to the wardrobe. Opening it, she pulled out the clothes she planned to wear. Without looking at him, she walked over to the bathroom door, removed the chair and unlocked the door. She opened it and entered the bathroom. She placed her clothes on the counter and went back to get her cosmetics bag. Greg still sat on the bed watching her every move. She placed her bag on the counter next to his. Unzipping it, she pulled out her shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Greg leaned against the door jam, his arms folded across his chest and a seductive smile curving his lips.

"Are you going to get dressed now?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'd rather get back in the shower with you."

Allison smiled. "Nope. But, by the end of this week, you might get what you want."

"I want you."

She nodded. "I know. I want you, too. But we have to work together for three months. Things could get…complicated if we go too far, too soon. Look what happened with Amunet."

"You are not Amunet," he responded.

"No, I'm not. I'm also not going to have sex with you the day after I met you. Being on this team is very important to me. I won't ruin this chance just because you want to get into my pants."

Greg narrowed his eyes and straightened up. Silence stretched between them, making Allison uncomfortable but she refused to back down. Finally he laughed and walked past her to the door leading into his room.

"Good for you," he said and then entered his room closing the door behind him.

Allison released a shaky breath and leaned against the counter. She jumped when his door opened and he stuck his head in.

"You've won this round," he told her and then shut the door again.

Allison laughed and prepared for her shower.

* * *

The sun was barely peeking over the edge of the horizon when they arrived at the site. Greg rode in the front seat of the jeep this time, leaving Allison in the back holding their backpacks. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. A slight dawn breeze ruffled the flaps of the tents. As the jeeps drove away, Allison closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened them, she saw Greg smiling down at her. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. She leaned into his touch, smiling. He sighed and began walking toward the main tent. Amunet fell into step beside Allison as she followed him.

"I see the professor has taken a liking to you," the other woman commented.

"I suppose," Allison replied cautiously. Something in Amunet's tone made her wary.

Amunet laughed scornfully. "He will pursue you, he will have you and then he will replace you," she commented, a touch of bitterness in her voice. She increased her pace and left Allison to watch her in surprised silence. Amunet grabbed a carry all and stalked out to the excavation site.

"She's just jealous," a voice said from behind her.

Allison turned to look at Wilson. "She pursued House and he did sleep with her a few times," he told her. He squinted down at her. "He's attracted to you, but he's not an easy man to deal with. Just be careful."

Allison shook her head as he walked away. She entered the main tent and dropped their backpacks on the table. He was looking over the context sheet. The others had already begun working.

"I'm getting a lot of warnings about you," she said quietly.

He looked up at her briefly before looking back down at the paper. "Are you?"

"Should I be concerned?"

Greg put the paper on the table and folded his arms. "Not unless you're expecting me to marry you," he replied.

Allison looked at him for several long moments. Suddenly she knew why Greg no longer slept with Amunet. "Did I say I wanted to marry you?" she finally asked.

Greg smiled ruefully. "No," he responded.

Allison looked down at the context sheet. "Where should I start today?" she asked.

"I thought we'd continue marking the boundary we were working on yesterday."

"We?" she questioned in amusement.

He looked up at her and smiled that seductive smile she'd come to recognize. "That a problem?" he asked.

"Not for me," she told him. "But I'm not too sure Amunet will like it."

Greg snorted. "I suppose she warned you about me."

"She said you would pursue me, have me, and the move on."

Greg moved closer to her until his body brushed against hers. Her breath quickened as the scent of him washed over her.

"She got the first two correct," he murmured in her ear. "I will pursue you and I will have you. Repeatedly. But not until the end of the week if I'm lucky."

Desire coursed through her and she struggled to breathe. She gasped when his hand brushed lightly against her breast. Then he moved away and picked up a carry all.

"Shall we?" he asked. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

As she walked past him, she told him, "When the time comes, you will pay for that."

He laughed aloud and they walked toward the area they'd been clearing the day before.


	4. Chapter 4

Allison turned the air conditioner on in her room and crawled into bed. It had been a long week and she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Besides the physical labor involved in uncovering artifacts was the emotional labor in keeping Greg at arm's length. She lost count of the times she caught him staring at her with desire in his eyes or all the times he managed to touch her. Just thinking about him made her temperature rise. Flipping onto her back, Allison began silently reciting all the chemical elements of the periodic table. She was on the verge of sleep when she heard the bathroom door open.

"Too tired for games now," she called out rolling on to her side and pulling the covers up to her chin. "Go to bed."

"They say an orgasm helps you sleep better," Greg commented. She felt the bed dip as he sat down.

"Go to bed, Greg," she told him. "I'm tired."

"You know, relative to its size, the barnacle has the largest penis of any animal," he told her with a hint of laughter in his voice.

She rolled onto her back and looked at him. "Oh, we're trading information? Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight. It's violent, it's ugly, and it's messy, and if God hadn't made it unbelievably fun… the human race would have died out eons ago. Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. Did you know that women can have an hour-long orgasm?"

He got up briefly and flipped the covers back. When he sat down again, he moved closer to her. His hand began to stroke her thigh. As his fingers moved upward, she closed her eyes. She tensed when his fingers brushed against the top of her thigh, rubbing against the edge of her panties. She shuddered when one of his fingers slipped beneath the lacy edge and brushed against her.

"Hour long orgasm, huh? Impressive," he whispered as his finger moved against her.

She gripped his thigh, digging her fingers into the muscle as he slid her panties down and resumed stroking her. She arched her back when he slid a finger inside her. She emitted cry of protest when his hands moved from her.

"Shh," he crooned. She opened her eyes to see him kneeling over her. Then his hands were on her and in her again. She could feel him sitting on her legs. Then she was climaxing, crying out and arching against him. The weight of him left her and she felt him stretch out beside her. She gasped and slowly relaxed as the pleasure washed over her.

"You don't play fair," she murmured.

He kissed her neck. "Nope," he told her.

She sat up and rolled him onto his back. She straddled his thighs. "Well," she smirked. "Neither do I."

She leaned over him and lightly licked his nipples. Then she sat back on his right thigh, sliding wetly against his skin.

"Oh, Christ," he groaned.

"You did that," she told him, rubbing against the muscles in his thigh. Her hand slipped into the flap of his boxer shorts. His breath hissed sharply between his teeth as her fingers closed around him. She drew him out and rubbed her fingers up and down his hardening shaft.

"Mmmm, nice," she told him. "I think you might give that old barnacle some competition."

He made an unintelligible sound and thrust against her hand. She shifted so that she lay between his legs. She ran her fingers over him then leaned down and licked him.

"Fuck!" he gasped.

"You started it," she reminded him. She sucked lightly on the tip making him groan. Then she slid the length of him into her mouth, sucking and licking. He was panting and muttering as she moved her mouth over him. Sliding her mouth the end of his penis, she sucked on the tip. She placed one hand on his stomach, the other on his hip, and slid her mouth down on him again. She felt his stomach muscles contract and moved up to the tip again. He jerked against her, shouting, as he climaxed. She felt his heat flooding her mouth and she swallowed quickly. When his orgasm subsided, she tucked him back into his boxer shorts and lightly slapped his stomach.

"Move over," she told him moving to lie beside him.

He slowly moved over to one side of the bed. Crawling beneath the covers, she rolled onto her side. She felt his arms encircle her and his body press against her back. She sighed when his leg slid between hers.

"Now," he whispered against her hair. "Was that so hard?"

She laughed quietly. "You're impossible."

"But you like me," he murmured sleepily.

"Yes," she replied, yawning. "I like you."

"And you like these games."

She rubbed her hand over his. "Go to sleep," she told him.

She felt him move closer still and then she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke the next morning to the sound of the shower running. She rolled over and pushed the covers back. Trudging into the bathroom, she stumbled over Greg's boxer shorts. She bent down to pick them up. She opened the opposite door and tossed them into his room.

"How much longer are you going to be?" she asked, stripping off her night shirt. She yelped in surprise when she felt Greg grab her and pull her into the shower with him. He grinned at her as the water poured over him.

"Not much longer," he smirked.

He bent his head and kissed her throat. She groaned and sighed.

"We don't have time for this," she whispered.

"We'll make time," he told her.

She pushed down the desire he stirred in her. It was hard, but she did it. She broke free from his embrace and pushed him out of the shower. He turned to look at her in surprise.

"Dress," she told him.

He scowled at her and grabbed a towel. She smiled sweetly at him and bathed quickly. He was brushing his teeth as she shut off the water. She grabbed a towel and dried quickly. He watched in her in the mirror. She hung the towel on the rack and walked into her room. Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out clean clothes. She turned to dress and saw him leaning against the door frame, smiling at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I just like looking at you. You are very beautiful."

She smiled and dressed. He watched her with the same delighted smile.

As she sat on the end of the bed to put on her boots, she looked up at him. "You should get dressed."

"If you kiss me," he told her. "One kiss and then I'll get dressed."

She tied her boots and stood up. "Fine," she sighed.

She walked up to him and rose up on her toes. She put her hands on his cheeks and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. Releasing his breath in a disgusted sigh, his arms encircled her waist and he pulled her against him. His mouth captured hers and his tongue brushed against her lips. Her lips parted and his tongue licked the roof of her mouth before sucking her lower lip into his mouth. She clung to him to keep from falling. His mouth moved against hers and his hands moved down to pull her against his hips. She could feel his erection beneath his towel. Reluctantly, she broke away from him.

"We're going to be late," she informed him breathlessly. "Go douse yourself with cold water."

Greg gripped the door frame and drew in several deep breaths, releasing each one slowly. He looked at her and slowly pointed a finger in her direction.

"Tonight," he told her. "The games end tonight." He turned and slammed the bathroom door. A moment later, Allison heard the water running followed by a wordless shout from Greg. Allison flung the door open and rushed into the bathroom. She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the sight of Greg standing under the shower, water running over him. She pushed the door open and held her hand under the spray. It was icy cold.

"Close the door, woman," he commanded.

Allison closed the door and returned to her room. She gently closed the door and began to laugh.

"I can hear you!" Greg shouted. Allison laughed harder.


	5. Chapter 5

When they arrived at the site, chaos greeted them. The tents had been torn from their moorings, papers fluttered in the dawn breeze, pottery shards were scattered about and most of the relics they'd uncovered were missing.

"I knew we should have taken them back with us last night," Wilson told Greg.

"None of it had any real monetary value," Greg responded. "They had more historical value. They weren't even museum quality pieces. The ones nearest the surface rarely are."

He stood with his hands on his hips surveying the damage. Allison, Amunet and Amber were cleaning up the debris while Chase and Remy secured the tents.

"Are you going to notify the authorities?" Wilson asked him.

Greg rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I'll have to," he said. "I'll also move my things out here and stay until we finish retrieving the remainder of the artifacts."

"You shouldn't stay out here alone," Wilson commented. "Maybe you could get Allison to stay out here with you. She seems like she'd be good to have around in an emergency."

Greg tilted his head and looked at Wilson appraisingly. "Yes, I think she would," he agreed.

Wilson nodded and went to join the others.

The remainder of the day was spent cleaning up the site. No actual archaeological work was done. Greg sighed in frustration as the sun began to sink toward the horizon. They lost an entire day to theft and vandalism. The local police came out, surveyed the damage and promised to keep a look out for the stolen artifacts.

Allison agreed to stay with Greg at the site. She went back to the hotel with the police to pack their things. She would return with the drivers at sunset. Amunet offered to stay as well, but Greg politely declined her offer.

The jeeps pulled up to the edge of the site and Allison jumped out of the first one. Greg strode forward and helped her unload the supplies they would need. Twenty minutes later, the last jeep pulled away and they were alone on the desert.

Greg pulled two cots together and spread the bedding Allison brought over them. Allison chuckled when she saw the makeshift double bed.

Greg looked up at her as he tucked the blanket in at the foot of the bed. "Don't laugh," he told her. "I plan to have sex tonight. With you."

"Really?" she giggled. "What makes you so sure that's going to happen for you?"

"This," he told her, pulling her into his arms. His mouth covered hers. With sure, swift movements he undressed her and pushed her onto the cots. He stripped off his own clothes and lay beside her.

"I have wanted to do this since I first saw you," he murmured against her shoulder. His hand skimmed over her breasts, down her stomach and across her hip. He lowered his head and pressed gentle kisses against her breasts before taking each nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. She pushed him onto his back and grazed his neck with her teeth before moving down to swirl her tongue over his hardened nipples. She trailed kisses down his stomach, causing the muscles to contract. He pulled her on top of him and kissed her again, his tongue slowly stroking the inside of her mouth and making her whimper. She moved her mouth down to his throat and sucked gently, making him groan. She could feel his erection pressing against her and she lifted her hips so that it was wedged between them.

"Christ," he breathed as her stomach rubbed against his hardened penis. His rolled her onto her back and knelt over her. He slipped a hand between her legs and stroked her a few times before pushing her legs apart with his knee. Then he was thrusting into her and she cried out. She met each thrust and dug her fingers into his back. He held her head between his hands and looked into her eyes as he moved in and out of her. Clinging to him, she felt the familiar tightening of an orgasm building. She squeezed her eyes closed as he slowed his thrusts.

"Open your eyes and look at me," he commanded. She forced her eyes open and looked at him. Then she was climaxing, crying out and arching against him.

He kissed her and put his hands under her hips, thrusting more forcefully. She felt him shudder against her and then he collapsed on top of her, gasping for air.

As her breathing slowed and her heart rate returned to normal, she ran her hands up his back, stroking his skin and tracing her fingers over the muscles.

Slowly he withdrew from her and rolled to lie beside her. He gathered her into his arms and pulled the blankets over them.

"I hope no one tries to rob the site tonight," he told her. "I don't think I can move now."

Allison smiled and traced a pattern on his chest. He ran his fingers up and down her arm.

"Remind me again why we didn't do this the first night we met?" he asked her.

"Because it's more meaningful now that we know each other."

"Well, you were definitely worth the wait," he told her.

"So were you," she replied sleepily.

He pulled the blankets up over her shoulder and they drifted off to sleep.

They awoke before dawn and dressed. Greg walked out over the site. He smiled at Allison when he returned.

"Everything is just as we left it," he told her.

Allison nodded and turned at the sound of the approaching jeeps. She looked for a moment at the cots and the rumpled covers, mute evidence of how they'd spent their night.

"Worried about what the others might think?" Greg asked.

Allison shook her head. "I was actually thinking about what happened on those two little cots last night. I'm surprised they're still standing."

Greg laughed. "They're pretty sturdy. They'll stand up to several more nights of punishment from us."

The jeeps stopped at the edge of the site. The rest of the team jumped out and began unloading the supplies and equipment.

Once the jeeps were headed back to Dendara, Wilson approached Greg.

"We talked it over last night," Wilson said. "We decided we should take turns staying out here. It isn't fair for you and Allison to spend all your time out here. Amunet, Amber and I will stay tonight and Chase and Remy will stay tomorrow night. We figured rotating would be fair."

Greg nodded slowly. "Okay," he replied. "We'll try it."


	6. Chapter 6

The next two weeks passed quietly. They continued to take turns guarding the site at night. During the day, they uncovered more of the ancient village. Some of the artifacts were small enough to be taken back to the hotel and placed in storage there. Others were too large to transport in the jeeps. Those were left at the site.

Greg and Allison fell into a comfortable pattern of working side-by-side during the day. Amunet watched them with a mix of sadness and envy. She knew they were sleeping together because she had been at the front desk at the hotel picking up her messages when Greg changed their rooms. Amunet had watched in surprise as Greg turned in the two keys for their separate rooms and was given two new ones for one room. She'd watched him smile and toss the keys into the air before pocketing them. She wanted to hate Allison. She had even tried to work up dislike for the young archaeologist, but she couldn't. Allison was kind, friendly and helpful. Amunet liked her. Allison wasn't to blame because Greg chose her over Amunet.

The tranquility was shattered the following night. Wilson and Amber were staying at the site when the thieves struck again. Amber and Wilson were sleeping on two cots pushed together. Amber shifted in her sleep and turned away from Wilson. The sudden lack of warmth caused Wilson to awaken and blink sleepily. Sitting up, he picked up a flashlight and shone it over the dig site. Once he was convinced everything was normal, he flicked off the flashlight, laid it on the table and pulled Amber close. He wasn't certain how long he he'd been asleep when he heard a loud crack and got up to investigate. As he rounded the back edge of his tent, something connected with the back of his head with enough force to render him unconscious. The sound woke Amber and she crept cautiously from the cot. She crouched beside the edge of the flap and peered out into the darkness. A full moon washed the desert in a silvery light. Amber could see three figures moving through the site carrying artifacts. She looked around for something to use as a weapon and wondered where Wilson was. She saw a shovel leaning against the table and moved quietly to pick it up. Trying to make as little noise as possible she lifted the shovel and moved quietly out of the tent. She knelt beside the tent and watched the three intruders load the artifacts into an SUV. Why hadn't they heard it approach? Where was Wilson? She moved stealthily toward the SUV. She never saw the blow that knocked her out.

The three intruders stood over Wilson's and Amber's unconscious bodies. The tallest bound the two archaeologists' hands together before binding their feet and tethering them to a tent pole. Handkerchiefs were tied around Wilson and Amber's mouths to keep them from making noise when they regained consciousness.

"We should kill them," the smaller intruder hissed. The third stood silently and watched, arms folded.

"No," the taller one responded, knotting the ropes tightly.

"They saw us," the smaller one said.

The taller one rose and motioned toward the SUV. "They can't identify us so just shut the fuck up and let's get that stuff out of here. We're not killing anyone."

The three intruders climbed into the SUV and drove away.

* * *

The sun was still below the horizon when Greg and the others arrived at the excavation site the next morning. The sky was brushed a pale rosy gold in anticipation of the sunrise. A gentle breeze stirred the tent flaps. The site was quiet. Greg assumed Amber and Wilson were still sleeping. He'd urged he others to leave earlier than usual to make up for some lost time due to the earlier robbery. He and the others began unloading the jeeps. As he rounded the corner of the main tent, he saw Amber and Wilson tied to the tent pole with gags over their mouths.

He rushed over to them and began trying to untie them. The ropes were bound too tightly so he pulled out his knife and began to cut them. Allison rounded the corner and gasped when she saw them. Then she moved forward to help Greg release them. Once they were free of the ropes and the gags were removed, Greg and Allison helped them stand.

"What happened?" Greg asked.

"It was the thieves," Amber told him in a trembling voice. "I saw them. There were three of them and they were driving a dark SUV."

"I didn't see them," Wilson told Hugh. "They hit me in the head before I got around the corner of the tent."

"Did you see the make or license plate of the SUV?" Greg asked.

Amber shook her head and winced. "They hit me before I could get a good look."

"You two are going back to Dendara to the hospital. You might have a concussion," Greg told them.

Chase and Remy volunteered to go back with them and report the robbery and assault to the local police.

"Alert the American Embassy, as well," Greg told him.

Once they were gone, Greg and Allison were alone. Amunet was checking for damage to the dig site.

"Fuck!" Greg shouted. "It's one thing to rob my site. It's another thing entirely to injure my people. If I get my hands on the people responsible for this I will fucking tear them apart!"

Allison stroked his arm. "Yelling isn't going to help anything," she told him.

"It could have been you," he whispered. "If you were to get hurt-'

Allison wrapped her arms around him. "They'll find the people responsible. No one else will get hurt."

Greg buried his face in her neck. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me," she assured him.

Chase and Remy returned a few hours later. Chase informed Greg that the local police said there was nothing they could do since the site was under the purview of the American government and the American Embassy said they were unable to spare anyone at this time to investigate. They would send someone out when they could.

Chase and Remy stayed at the site while Greg and Allison returned to Dendara. They stopped at the local hospital and checked on Wilson and Amber. Both were being kept overnight for observation so Greg and Allison sat with them for a while before going back to the hotel.

When Greg and Allison arrived at the site the following morning, Chase and Remy reported that nothing had been stolen and the night passed quietly. The four of them spent the day working quietly removing artifacts and marking the outer boundaries of the ancient village.

That night Greg and Allison stayed at the site.


	7. Chapter 7

The sun sank over the rolling sand dunes painting them in shades of gold, russet, silver, lavender and dark grey in the hollows. Darkness rose and the moon and stars washed the sand in a cool silvery light.

Greg sat on the edge of the cot staring down at his hands.

"Maybe we should shut down," he said quietly.

"No," Allison told him. "We're not going to let them chase us away."

Greg smiled up at her. "You are absolutely fantastic, do you know that?" he asked.

Allison sat down beside him. She trailed her fingers down his throat. He closed his eyes and moaned softly. He shuddered when her mouth moved against his throat and her hand slipped inside his shirt. He turned to take her into his arms, his mouth seeking hers. Pressing her back against the cot, he pulled her shirt loose from her pants. His hand slid against her stomach. She stripped his shirt off and kissed his broad chest, flicking her tongue over his nipples.

A loud crack shattered the stillness. Greg and Allison sat up.

"What was that?" Allison whispered.

"I don't know," Greg responded. "Stay here."

"No," Allison told him. "I can help you."

Greg looked at her and finally nodded. They moved quietly out into the darkness. Greg spotted the SUV.

He turned to Allison. "You go to the left and I'll go around to the right. We need to get the tag information."

Allison nodded and crept silently off to the left. Greg cautiously made his way toward the SUV. As he rounded the back of the vehicle, he saw that there was no license plate. He circled back around to the front. No plates, no identifying markings of any kind. He couldn't tell in the darkness what type of SUV it was.

"Fuck," he whispered. He heard the slithery sound of footsteps running through the sand. He ran toward the nearest tent and watched as the three intruders leapt into the vehicle and sped away. Slowly, he made his way back to the main tent. He looked inside and was surprised to find it empty. He began searching the surrounding area looking for Allison.

"NO!" he cried out when he saw her. She lay in a crumpled heap beside the outermost tent. He knelt beside her and gently rolled her onto her back. Cradling her head, he felt something warm and sticky against his hand. Her head lolled against his arm as he lifted her. He carried her back to the main tent and laid her gently on the cot. He saw that his hand was covered with blood. Gently he lifted her head and examined the gash on her scalp. He found the first aid kit and dressed the wound. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called the hotel. He explained to Wilson what happened and asked him to send a jeep for them. Turning back to Allison, he stroked her pale skin.

"Please open your eyes," he pleaded. "Please talk to me."

Allison remained unconscious. Greg moved to lie beside her, wrapping her in his arms. He pulled the blankets up over them and stroked her hair. A tear splashed against her cheek and then another. Greg rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Allison," he whispered. "Please open your eyes."

Allison groaned softly. Slowly her eyes opened. She turned her head toward him and grimaced.

"My head," she whispered. "It really hurts."

"I know," he told her. "Someone struck you from behind. Wilson should be here soon."

Allison shivered. "I'm cold," she told him. Greg pulled her closer and wrapped the blankets more tightly around them.

She closed her eyes. Greg shook her gently. She looked at him in confusion.

"My head. It really hurts."

Greg choked down a sob. "I know. Wilson is on his way."

"I'm cold."

Greg leaned his forehead against her cheek. "I know," he told her. She sighed and closed her eyes again. Greg sat up and pulled her into a sitting position.

"You can't go to sleep," he told her.

She leaned against him.

"My head hurts," she told him. "And it's so cold."

Greg held her, keeping her awake. Finally, he heard the jeep approaching. He bundled her up in the blankets and carried her out of the tent. Wilson helped him get her settled in the back of the jeep and they drove to the hospital. The doctor stitched up the gash on the back of her head and admitted her for observation. Greg refused to leave her so Wilson returned to the hotel to tell the others.


	8. Chapter 8

Consciousness crept over her slowly. First, she was aware of a beeping sound. Then she could hear voices; soft whispers, muted conversations. Next, she was aware of a weight across her hips and legs. Reaching out, felt soft hair brush against her fingers. She rested her hand on the head lying across her lap. She tried to open her eyes but they felt leaden; too heavy. The sounds retreated for a time. Slowly she became aware of them again. This time she was able to open her eyes. She looked down and saw Hugh. He was the weight she felt across her lap. He lay sleeping with his head on her hip, his arm thrown across her legs. She looked at him and smiled slightly. He couldn't be comfortable. The chair he sat in was too low to the ground. She stroked his hair, running her fingers through the silky strands and over the bald spot on the back of his head. He sat up and blinked at her.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed. "You're awake." He rose with a groan and stumbled to the door of her hospital room, calling for the doctor.

The doctor made Greg wait outside while he examined Allison. When he was finally allowed back in Allison was surprised at how exhausted he looked.

"How long have I been here?" she asked.

"Two days," Greg told her.

"Did you catch the thieves?' she asked.

Hugh's face hardened. "No, but when I do, I'm going to kill those fucking bastards."

She took his hand in hers. "No, you're not," she told him. "They're not worth going to jail."

"They hurt you."

"I'll be fine. We need to stop them from stealing the artifacts. Besides, they stopped our fun. For that alone they should be punished," she joked.

Greg leaned down and kissed her gently.

"When can I leave?" she asked.

"I don't know."

"Go ask the doctor, please."

"You need to rest," he told her.

"I need to get out of this hospital," she grumbled. She looked up at him beseechingly. "Find out when I can leave. Please?"

Greg went in search of the doctor. He returned a few minutes later.

"The doctor plans to release you tomorrow," he informed her.

Allison sighed.

Greg sat down again and took her hand. "I'm staying with you," he told her.

Allison insisted on returning to the site once she was released from the hospital. Greg put his foot down and demanded she rest at the hotel for a couple days. She began to argue but the set look on his face stopped her. Greg made her stay in bed during those two days. He brought her food, magazines, books, and games. He helped her shower and never left her side.

The morning of the third day Allison awoke early. Greg lay beside her, his arm and leg holding her to his side. She gently lifted his arm and slid her legs from beneath his. He murmured in his sleep but didn't awaken. Slipping from the bed, she made her way quietly to the bathroom and closed the door. She turned on the water and adjusted the spray. Stripping off her night shirt and panties, she stepped into the shower letting the water run over her neck and shoulders. She was careful not to get her head wet. The doctor had instructed her to keep her stitches dry. She reached for the soap and began to wash. The water drowned out the sound of the door opening, so Allison was unaware of Greg entering the bathroom until he stepped into the shower with her. She gasped in surprise when he stroked her arm.

"You're not supposed to sneak out of bed, you know," he told her. He took the soap from her and lathered up his hands. With slow, deliberate strokes he began to wash her. His hands lingered on her breasts, rubbing, stroking, and kneading her soft skin. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples until they were taut. She groaned and moved closer to him. His hands moved down her stomach. He stroked the soap over her hips and up her back. Picking up the soap again, he applied more to his hands and knelt in front of her. She sucked in her breath at the first touch of his hands between her legs. He washed her carefully, rubbing his soapy fingers against her, making her cry out. He moved behind her and lifted her hands. He placed her hands against the shower wall and then grasped her hips. Slowly, he slid inside her from behind. She smacked her hands against the wall.

"Oh, God!" she cried out as he began to thrust against her. His hand slipped between her legs and rubbed. She leaned forward slightly and gasped for air. When his hand closed over breast and his fingers rubbed against her nipple, she arched back against him. The orgasm was so intense she thought she couldn't bear the intensity of it. Pleasure throbbed through her. He continued to thrust against her; continued to rub her; continued to stroke her breast. As the pleasure began to subside and she began to relax against him, she felt the tension building again. Then she was climaxing again more intensely than before. She grabbed his arms and held onto him as she shuddered and cried out. He murmured in her ear soft words of love and encouragement. When she finally melted against him, he bent her forward slightly and wrapped both arms around her. He quickened his thrusts. A few moments later she felt his heat flooding her as he shouted her name and shuddered against her. He turned her in his arms and kissed her.

They were dressing when someone banged on the door. Greg opened the door and Wilson rushed past him. He was clearly agitated.

"They've arrested Amunet," he told them. "Remy went to her room to pick up some equipment and found a few of the artifacts in a duffel bag. Amunet says she doesn't know how they got there. I believe her."

"You think she's being framed?" Greg asked.

Wilson nodded.

"Why?" Allison asked. "Who would want to frame her?"

Wilson shook his head. "I don't know. The thieves could be targeting her."

"Why?" Greg asked.

"Because she's Egyptian," Wilson sighed. "She also worked at the other digs where there have been robberies. I thought for a few days that it might be Allison."

"Me?" Allison asked in disbelief. "Why suspect me?"

"The robberies at our site occurred soon after you arrived."

"Allison hasn't taken anything," Greg told him. "I've been with her the entire time she's been here. I'm also inclined to agree with you about Amunet. She's not a thief. Could Remy have planted the artifacts?"

Wilson nodded. "Possibly. Whoever is behind this is setting Amunet up."

"And you don't have any idea who it is?" Greg asked.

Wilson shook his head.

"We'll have to set a trap," Allison told them.

"You're not getting involved in this," Greg told her.

"I'm the one who got hit in the head and ended up in the hospital," she reminded him.

"She might be on to something," Wilson said. "We can set a trap and catch them. I know just what to do."


	9. Chapter 9

The trap was set. Greg reluctantly agreed to let Allison stay out at the site with Amber the following night. He and Wilson were hiding nearby, waiting for the robbers to strike again.

Allison sat in the main tent with Amber. They were playing poker to pass the time. Amber knew nothing of the trap. Wilson didn't want to alarm her.

"So," Amber said. "You and Greg have gotten pretty close. He really likes you, you know."

Allison smiled. "I really like him, too."

Amber tossed a chip onto the pile in the center of the table and smiled at Allison. "Amunet took it rather well, I thought," she commented.

Allison looked at her cards and tossed two chips onto the pile. Outside, the desert was quiet and the stars provided a faint illumination. She shivered and thought of Greg out in that vast darkness waiting for a trio of thieves who might kill him.

"Are you cold?" Amber asked.

Allison nodded. "A little."

"You probably shouldn't be out here," Amber told her. She tossed her cards onto the table. "Why don't we try to get some sleep?"

Allison nodded and they moved quietly out of the tent. Everything was silent and Allison looked around, trying to see where Greg might be hiding. All she saw were the dark tents and the desert. She and Amber entered their tents. Allison lit the lamp on the table in her tent and sat on the edge of the cot. She stared out the tent flaps at the darkness until the inky blackness turned a soft gray. A scream from Amber's tent caused her to jump and run toward the other woman's tent. A strong hand grabbed her arm and before she could react, Greg was in front of her with his finger over his lips. Silently, he led her to Amber's tent. They stood far enough away so that Amber couldn't see them.

"What the fuck, Wilson?" Amber yelled. Wilson lay sprawled at her feet. Slowly, he rose with a groan.

"I told you," he said moving just out of arm's reach. "I was checking on you."

"Have you been out here all night?"

Silence greeted her question and Greg snickered. Allison jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Let me guess," Amber sneered. "You stayed out here to protect the two helpless women, right?"

"Not exactly," Wilson responded. "We stayed out here to catch the robbers."

"Who is we?"

"House and me."

Greg gasped. "He just threw me under the bus," he whispered furiously.

"Come on," Allison said grabbing his arm and pulling him toward Amber's tent.

"But I don't wanna," Greg whined. "She's a cut throat bitch."

Allison pushed him into the tent. When she walked in, he hid behind her.

"Wilson and Greg have been out here all night waiting to catch the thieves," she told Amber.

Amber folded her arms. "They told you but not me."

"Yes but I thought you knew and that's why you were here."

Amber turned an icy gaze on Wilson. Greg tried to leave but Allison grabbed his shirt and held him in place.

"They hurt you," Wilson told her. "I couldn't let them hurt you again."

"They hurt me because they snuck up behind me. I'm not some fragile flower you have to protect, Wilson. I can take care of myself. I imagine Allison can, too."

Allison nodded. "I have a black belt in Krav Maga."

"So do I," Amber told them. "So we are both more than capable of taking care of ourselves. When those assholes come back, they won't catch me from behind again."

In the distance, the rumble of the jeeps could be heard.

Amber began to gather up her things. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she looked at Wilson.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I should have trusted you and told you what was going on. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't."

Amber walked out of the tent and then turned back. "You coming?" she asked Wilson.

Wilson nodded and ran after her.

Allison exited the tent with Greg on her heels. "She has him firmly by the short hairs," he said.

Allison entered her tent and packed her things. "No, he loves her and he made a mistake for which he apologized."

"Are you angry with me?" Greg asked as he followed her toward the jeeps. The sun peeked over a sand dune washing the desert in bright light. Chase and Remy unloaded a jeep and walked toward the dig. Amber and Wilson got into a jeep and Allison watched them leave.

"Someone knew," she said.

Greg stopped and looked around. "You're right. The thieves didn't show up last night because someone told them we were out here, waiting to catch them."

Allison began walking toward the remaining jeep. "It wasn't Amunet. It isn't you or me."

"Well, it's not Wilson," Greg said as she climbed into the jeep.

"You certain of that?" she asked as he climbed in beside her.

Greg frowned and they rode in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

The next afternoon Amunet sat in a chair trying to smooth her tangled hair. Her olive skin was pallid and her eyes were ringed with dark circles. "Does Greg know that you bailed me out of jail?" she asked quietly.

Wilson looked at her with concern and compassion. The time in jail left its mark on her. Amunet was listless and it was obvious she hadn't been fed properly or been allowed to bathe. She wore the same clothes she'd worn the day she was arrested.

Amber entered the hotel room with a plate in one hand and a large glass of water in the other. She set them down on the small table next to Amunet. Amunet stared at the food and water before turning her attention back to Wilson.

"I didn't steal those artifacts. Someone planted them. I would never steal from my country," she whispered fiercely.

"We think someone planted them, too," Amber told her. She nudged the plate closer to the other woman. "You need to eat."

Amunet picked up a French fry from the plate and ate it. "American food. It was always American food with Greg." She picked up the sandwich on the plate and ate it. Wilson and Amber sat quietly while she finished eating. As Amunet reached for the water, Wilson began to pace around the room, one hand on his hip the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Whoever did this is connected to the other dig site robberies," he commented. "Who were at all the sites that were hit?"

Amunet gripped the water glass. "I was."

"Who else?" Amber asked.

"No one. Eric Foreman was at three, including this one. Remy was at four, including this one. There is an archaeologist named Peter Taub who was at all the others but he isn't here," Amunet told them.

"Do you know where Taub is now?" Wilson asked.

Amunet shook her head. She sipped the water. "I think he went back to America. He works at Princeton in Greg's department. He's the one who told me about Greg and this excavation."

"I've met him!" Amber exclaimed. "He's not exactly House's biggest fan. That may be why he isn't working at this site."

"Foreman didn't like Greg, either," Wilson reminded her.

"Foreman doesn't like anyone," Amber shot back. "Except himself."

"And Remy. Eric was sleeping with Remy," Amunet told them.

"We need to talk to House," Wilson said. He looked at Amunet. "You're staying with Amber in her room for now."

She looked at him in surprise.

"I'm going to stay with you so no one can get to you," Amber told her. "Wilson will tell House what's going on and you'll have time to rest."

Amunet shook her head. "I want to catch these bastards. Someone is trying to ruin my career."

Wilson and Amber looked at each other and Amber nodded slightly.

"Okay," Wilson replied.

* * *

The next day, they were all back out at the site. Chase and Remy, who stayed overnight, reported that nothing happened. They were surprised to see Amunet but they made no comment. For her part, Amunet grabbed a bag and went to work at the farthest reaches of the excavation site. Allison followed her silently and Greg shaded his eyes, watching as the two women disappeared down into the level. He wanted to follow them but he knew Allison was more than capable of taking care of herself and Amunet.

As he grabbed his own bag, he thought about what Wilson told him. Greg knew Foreman and Taub. He worked with them briefly when they worked in his department at Princeton University. He didn't like them and he knew they didn't like him. It would not surprise him if they were part of the trio of robbers. As he carefully climbed down into a layer, Greg thought about the other sites that were robbed. They all used a site steward to keep watch over the artifacts. Greg had planned to use one once they found anything of value. Now he wondered if the other sites used the same steward. If they did, that person could be the third thief. He made a mental note to find out who the stewards were at the other sites.

As he went to work, Greg thought about the events since Allison arrived. He fell in love with her the moment he saw her and in the past he'd always scorned the idea of love at first sight. At some point he would tell her but he wasn't about to put his feelings on the line until he was certain of hers. He did that once before with a lawyer who worked in Princeton and the results were disastrous. When severe leg pain led to a diagnosis of an infarction in his thigh, she left him. Luckily, the infarction was discovered in time and thanks to plastic surgery, he didn't even have a scar. His leg healed but his trust of people was severely damaged. Of course, Allison was the kindest, most compassionate woman he'd ever met. He laughed softly as he carefully scraped sand. Allison was basically a stuffed animal made by Grandma. Well, a stuffed animal that could most likely kick his ass. That was one more thing he loved about her. She was capable of taking care of herself. She was also the most moral person he'd ever met. Allison always tried to see both sides of an issue. That was something he could learn from her. Greg put his trowel away and wiped the sweat off his face. Maybe when they returned to Princeton she'd agree to move in with him. He might even ask her to marry him. He reached for his trowel and began to whistle as he went back to work.

Allison climbed out of the level and arched her back. Amunet came to stand beside her. It was time for lunch. They were sweaty and more than ready for a break. In the distance, they saw the others emerge from other levels. When Remy and Chase stood on the edge of the level they'd been working in, Amunet grabbed Allison's arm.

"I know," she whispered. "I know who the robbers are!"


	11. Chapter 11

"I know," Amunet whispered. "I know who the robbers are!"

Allison turned to her in surprise and then looked back at Chase walking toward the main tent with Remy trailing behind him.

"Are you saying Rob and Remy are the thieves?" Allison gasped in shock. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I will explain everything but only to you. Go tell Greg I am tired and wish to lie down in one of the other tents. Bring our lunch to the tent but come alone. Then you can work with Greg this afternoon and tell him everything."

Allison stared for several minutes into Amunet's dark eyes then she nodded and walked away.

Allison brought their lunch to the outermost tent. Amunet sat on a cot waiting for her. She joined Allison at the table and drained a bottle of water before saying anything. Allison silently put another bottle in front of her.

"My name isn't Amunet," she began and all traces of her Egyptian accent were gone. "My name is Kate Wilkerson and I work with the FBI." She stopped and took a bite of the couscous salad Cameron brought for their lunch. "I look Egyptian and I have experience with archeology so the Bureau sent us out here to investigate the robberies. I'm actually from Bakersfield, California. The Egyptian government wasn't having any luck and once an American was killed, they asked for our help."

Allison stared at her in shock. "You said we. Who else is helping you?"

"Amber."

Allison sat for several minutes staring at nothing trying to sort out everything she'd been told. Amunet, or rather Kate, was an American posing as an Egyptian archeologist. She and Amber actually worked for the FBI and somehow Kate now knew the identities of the robbers.

"But you were arrested," Allison finally said looking back at Kate.

Kate laughed. "It isn't the first time and it won't be the last."

"Are you and Amber out here alone?" Allison asked. "Don't you have backup or something?"

Kate smiled and Allison was amazed at how different the other woman seemed now.

"We're undercover; so, no backup out here. The American Embassy is aware of the situation and they can send out soldiers if things get too dangerous but in the end the Egyptian government has provenance. Our government has agreed to allow the Egyptians to prosecute the robbers."

Again, Allison was amazed at the change in Amunet. No, not Amunet, Allison reminded herself, but Kate. Whereas Amunet deferred to the men and exuded an exotic charm, Kate was more confident and in control.

"So, who are the robbers?" Allison asked.

"Remy, Eric Foreman and Peter Taub," Kate replied. "Each of them has been at all the digs that were robbed. They have never been at one together but while I was in jail, Amber did some digging. Foreman has a long history of larceny and Taub is in serious debt. Taub doesn't have a record yet but he does owe a substantial amount to the Russian mafia in New Jersey. Remy doesn't have a record, either, but she and Foreman have been married for several years. She also just found out she has Huntington's chorea. She probably figures she has nothing to lose by helping her husband. I suppose dying in prison is preferable to dying from Huntington's. Amber and I aren't entirely sure of Remy's motivation."

Allison sat and allowed Kate's words to sink in. Greg told her about Foreman and Taub. They worked in his department at Princeton. She knew Greg didn't care for either man but he did seem to like Remy. Now that she really thought about it, there was something in Remy's eyes when she thought no one was watching her; a look bordering on contempt and hatred. Allison scooped a forkful of salad into her mouth and chewed. She knew Kate was watching her but she needed to think.

She'd come to Dendara to work and now she found herself caught up in a situation that she wasn't sure she wanted to be involved in. Yet, she loved Greg and didn't want anything to happen to him.

"Why are you telling me all this? Why not just tell Greg? He would believe you."

Kate sighed and sipped some water. "I slept with him, remember? At the time, I thought he might be behind the robberies." She paused and looked at Allison. "Greg has a different view of ethics than most other people do. He isn't an immoral man but he does tend to think of himself first. He's changed since you arrived. It's obvious he's in love with you. He'll believe you because he trusts you and so do I. That's why I want you to tell him. Amber and I will stay here tonight and then we can figure out a way to catch the thieves. Amber said that James will do whatever Greg asks of him. I'd prefer to leave Chase out of this, if possible. I definitely don't want Remy knowing what's going on."

Allison nearly jumped out of her skin a moment later when Greg appeared and told them it was time to get back to work. Kate nodded and stood. She looked at Allison and Allison gave a small nod. She would tell Greg and hopefully this whole thing would end soon. All Allison wanted was to spend as much time with Greg as possible and dig up artifacts. She wasn't a detective and she was thoroughly tired of the whole mess.

* * *

That afternoon Allison worked with Greg and told him everything. As she revealed each detail, his rage grew. She expected him to be angry and told him several times not to shout. When she finished, he stabbed his trowel into the dirt and sat down. Removing his sunglasses, he looked at her. In the late afternoon sunlight, his eyes were the color of a clear summer sky. She reached out and stroked his cheek gently. He leaned into her hand and she trailed her fingers along his jaw. Skimming her fingertips along the side of his throat, she rested her hand on his shoulder and began to gently massage the knotted muscles there. Greg soon relaxed beneath her touch.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. "I want to be here when they catch those fuckers."

"They won't come tonight because we haven't found anything worth stealing yet," she said sliding her hand down his arm and taking his hand in hers.

"We're close," he told her. "We're approaching the original village. I'd say within the next day or two that we'll find museum quality pieces." He put his sunglasses back on and gripped her hand. "There's something I want to say to you."

Allison smiled. "I love you. Does that make it easier?"

Greg laughed. "Yeah, it does. I love you, too. Wanna live with me when we get back to Princeton?"

"Okay."

Greg leaned in and kissed her. Finally, he pulled back and grabbed his trowel. Allison picked up her soil core and they continued to work.


	12. Chapter 12

It was the hottest day yet when they discovered the remains of a mud hut containing pottery. The elegant craftsmanship and beautiful paintings on the pottery meant they'd found an artist's hut. They knew this wasn't the magnitude of the discovery of the artist's village in The Valley of The Kings, but Greg was happy with the find. Allison helped unearth and remove six different bowls. They moved them to the main tent where they very carefully used brushes and soft rags to clean the artifacts. Allison watched Greg as he examined the intricate pattern painted on a small bowl.

"This is incredible," he remarked softly as he carefully turned the bowl over in his gloved hands. "I think this find deserves a celebration. Wilson, call for the jeeps. Let's get these packed up and we'll store them in the hotel safe. Amber, call the Embassy and ask them to send a couple soldiers to stand guard. I've already got a site steward who can stay out here tonight. I'll call her. Everyone else, pack these up."

The next hour was a flurry of activity but by the time the jeeps arrived with the site steward, everyone was ready and the artifacts were carefully loaded onto a jeep. As they rode back to the hotel, Greg slumped against Allison and fell asleep. She slipped her arm around him and rested her head against his. Allison was on the verge of sleep when they pulled up in front of the hotel. As soon as they jeep stopped, Greg sat up and rubbed his eyes. He stretched and then jumped out of the jeep. Turning to Allison, he held out his hand.

"Go on," she told him. "I know you want to make sure they put the artifacts in the safe correctly. I'll just grab our bags and be right behind you."

Greg leaned in, kissed her and then ran into the hotel. Allison smiled and leaned down to pick up their packs. She could hear the driver arguing with the doorman. As she looped the handles over her arm, she felt a sharp prick in the back of her neck and then everything went black.

For a moment, Allison thought she was back in the hospital. She felt as if her head was stuffed with cotton and her body felt heavy. Her mouth was very dry and she couldn't open her eyes. Slowly the drugged feeling wore off and she realized she was tied up. She lay on her side in a small, sweltering room with a small window that let in hazy light. Allison struggled to a sitting position and looked around. The walls were made of corrugated steel and the door was also made of steel. She could see that it had no handle so she knew she couldn't get out that way. The room was empty but Allison thought if she could get free of the ties that bound her, she might be able to get out the window.

Allison strained to reach the small knife she always kept in her back pocket. Sweat poured off her as she struggled to slide the fingers of her right hand into the pocket. She finally managed to grasp the knife and pull it out. Carefully, she slipped the cover off the blade and then turned it to cut through the heavy rope. Once her hands were free, she sliced through the ropes around her ankles. Allison grabbed her knife cover, slid it in her pocket and gathered up the ropes. Tossing them in a corner, she walked over to the window. Reaching up, she could just grasp the sill. All she had to do was break the glass, so she unbuttoned the khaki shirt she wore and wrapped it around her left arm. She put the knife hilt in her mouth and reached up for the sill. Using her feet, she hoisted herself up the wall until she could grasp the top of the window. Taking the knife from her mouth with her left hand, she smashed the window as hard as possible. The glass shattered and some of the shards struck her but she grasped the top of the window with her left hand and swung herself out. She dropped to the dusty ground, shifted the knife to her right hand and started running.

* * *

Greg left the soldiers guarding the hotel safe and walked out into the lobby. Wilson, Amber, Kate, and Chase were talking to one of the jeep drivers.

"What's going on?" he asked once he reached them.

"Apparently Allison isn't in the hotel and no one has seen her since we got back," Wilson said softly.

Greg felt a cold chill run down his spine. "Are you telling me that Allison is missing?"

Wilson took his arm. "Let's go upstairs and talk about this."

Greg looked over the group. "Where is Remy Hadley?"

"We don't know," Kate told him. She ignored Chase's look of surprise. "It's possible she drugged Allison and took her somewhere."

Wilson pulled on Greg. "This is not something we need to be discussing in the lobby."

Greg wrenched free from Wilson and lunged at the driver. He grabbed fistfuls of the man's shirt and lifted him off his feet. "Where is Allison?"

The driver stared long and hard at Greg. "The thing you love most has been taken from you. You will never see her again," he sneered and spit in Greg's face.

Before anyone could react, Greg dropped the driver and the two fell to the floor. He landed four punches to the driver's face before Amber could pull him away.

"She didn't do anything to you!" Greg shouted.

The driver struggled to sit up, wiping blood from his face. "She is everything to you and that is all that matters to them."

"You work for those thieving bastards," Greg snarled. Amber tightened her grip on his arms.

At that moment, the police ran into the lobby. The hotel manager explained the situation and the driver was taken away in handcuffs.

"Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Chase asked.

Greg paced the length of the hotel room he and Allison shared. Kate told Chase everything and he offered his help in finding Allison.

"She could be anywhere by now," Greg growled.

"She's still in the city," Amber told him. "And all the airlines have been alerted as well as the border patrols. They can't get her out of the city."

"If Remy is the one who took her, she couldn't have gone far," Wilson commented.

"Unless she had transportation waiting," Kate told him. "The driver kept the doorman distracted and no one recalls seeing either of them."

"I might know where they took her," Chase said. "Remy told me that she liked to go visit the old Army bunkers on the outskirts of town. The bunkers are all deserted. I thought it was odd she liked to go out there but then she always seemed a bit odd to me."

Greg stopped pacing and turned to look at Chase. "Deserted Army bunkers," he muttered. He nodded his head. "Let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

Allison ran past one deserted building after another. Her breath burned in her chest and she nearly fell a few times but she pushed on. She felt blood running down her face, chest and arm from the shards of glass when she broke the window. A jeep approached followed by another in the distance, so she veered to the side and ran between two of the buildings. As she ran, she heard a pop and felt a burning pain in her right shoulder. She kept running as she heard more pops and yelling. Her tank top began to stick to her skin, dizziness overtook her and she slowed until she was walking. The pain was nearly unbearable and she thought she heard Greg shouting her name. Was she beginning to hallucinate? Greg didn't know where she was; she didn't even know where she was. She fell to her knees in the sand as someone grabbed her. Instinctively, she swung her knife but a firm hand stopped her. Blackness consumed her and she collapsed.

* * *

Wilson stood outside the hotel with Amber, Kate and Chase. Greg had muttered something about finding a car and disappeared. Chase managed to locate Remy using the GPS tracking on her cell phone. She was out at the abandoned Army base. At that moment, a jeep screeched to a stop in front of them and the passenger door flew open.

"Get in!" Greg shouted from the driver's seat.

They all clambered into the vehicle and as soon as the doors were closed, Greg sped away from the hotel.

"Did you find that thieving bitch?" Greg demanded as he drove.

Wilson sat in the passenger seat and gripped the door and dashboard. "Jesus, House! Slow down! We can't help Allison if you get all of us killed!" he shouted as Greg took a corner on two wheels.

"She's at the abandoned Army base," Chase shouted from the backseat. "Wilson has the GPS coordinates."

Greg turned to look at Wilson. Wilson released his grip on the dashboard and pulled the GPS tracker out of the front pocket of his shirt. "EYES ON THE ROAD, HOUSE!" he shouted as a bus came to a stop in front of them. The jeep flew past the bus and Wilson looked down at the tracker.

"It's out past the edge of town about three kilometers. We'll see it on the right side."

Wilson barely got the words out before Greg sped up.

As they left the city behind, the desert stretched out before them. In the distance, several bunkers seemed to blend into the sand. The jeep bounced over the dusty road. Wilson looked over at Greg. During their long friendship, Wilson had seen Greg with many women but none affected him the way Allison Cameron did. When Greg was with Allison, he focused all his attention on her. He smiled more and laughed more freely. Wilson knew Allison could hold her own with Greg and that her intelligence would keep Greg interested for years to come. He just hoped they would have those years. He knew Foreman and Taub clashed with House professionally but this was personal. Greg could be abrasive but nothing he said or did should cause anyone to hurt him in this way.

The jeep made a sudden right turn and Wilson could see a jeep parked near one of the bunkers. As they drove closer, he could see a man shooting at someone behind one of the bunkers; Wilson immediately recognized the man as Peter Taub.

Greg slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the jeep. Wilson grabbed the gear stick and slammed it into park to keep from running into the other jeep.

Greg hit the ground running. Before Taub could shoot again, Greg leapt on him. As the two men fell to the ground, Taub fired two more rounds before Greg grabbed the gun from him. Holding Taub by the throat, he pointed the gun at the smaller man.

"Where is Allison?" Greg snarled.

Taub clawed at Greg's hands and made unintelligible gurgling noises. Greg tightened his grip and began to squeeze the trigger.

"House!" Wilson yelled running toward them. "House! Allison is down there. Give me the gun. She's hurt and she needs you."

Greg reared back and struck Taub in the face with the gun. He tossed it aside, jumped up and looked around. He could see Allison running in the distance. Shouting her name, he began to run. Greg saw blood seeping from her right shoulder as she slowed to a walk. Reaching out, he grabbed her just as she collapsed. She raised a small knife but he took it from her. Catching her, he lowered her to the ground. Quickly, he removed his shirt and tied it tightly over the two wounds in her right shoulder. He saw that she bled from superficial wounds on her face and chest. Her long sleeved khaki shirt was wound around her left arm. Greg smoothed back her long dark hair and gently wiped the blood from her face. He tucked her knife into his belt making certain the leather covered the sharp tip. Carefully he lifted her as Wilson stopped the jeep in front of them. Chase jumped out and helped Greg get settled in the backseat with Cameron. He got into the front seat and the jeep sped back toward town.

"Kate and Amber are taking Taub to the Egyptian authorities," Chase told Greg. "Then they're going to find Foreman and Remy. Taub had Remy's phone." He looked at Allison's deathly pale face. "We're going straight to hospital."

Greg looked up briefly and nodded. He applied pressure to Allison's wounds but he could feel the blood leaking between his fingers. He pressed harder. "Hurry," he told Wilson. "Hurry."

"I'm driving as fast as this jeep will go," Wilson told him over his shoulder.

The wind whistled in through the open windows and Greg leaned down.

"Don't leave me," he whispered in Allison's ear. "Don't leave me."


	14. Chapter 14

The hallway leading to the operating rooms was quiet. Greg stared into the window of the door separating the surgery section from the rest of the hospital. He refused to wait in the room set aside for family and friends. He wore green scrubs because Allison's blood covered his own clothes. Closing his eyes, he could see her as she bled from the gunshot wound in her shoulder. He remembered her icy pale skin and all the blood. Leaning his head against the window, he closed his eyes. He loved Allison; truly loved her. He'd never believed in soul mates until he met her. Now he did because Allison was his soul mate.

Greg wracked his brain trying to understand why Taub, Foreman and Hadley wanted Allison dead. Had he wronged them in some completely unforgivable way? Greg knew Foreman felt he'd kept Foreman from advancing. It wasn't true. Foreman was a mediocre archaeologist. That wasn't Greg's fault. The same was true of Taub and Hadley. Greg always thought they should all pursue teaching careers but he'd never voiced that opinion to anyone.

"House?"

Greg turned to see Wilson approaching him. After leaving Greg and Allison at the hospital, Wilson and Chase returned to the hotel to wait for news.

"Any word?" Wilson asked.

Greg shook his head. Wilson came to stand beside him.

"They found Foreman and Remy's bodies in one of the abandoned bunkers. Taub shot them sometime today." Wilson was silent and Greg motioned for him to continue. "Foreman and Hadley were behind the robberies of all the sites. I guess they thought it would be easy money. Amber said they made millions selling the artifacts on the black market. Taub worked with them because he wanted to get to you."

Greg turned to look at Wilson in surprise. "Me? Why did he want to get to me?"

Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out his breath. "Remember when Stacy and you broke up?"

Greg snorted. "You mean when she left me after the infarction in my thigh?"

Wilson tilted his head. "Anyway, you dated several women before we came here. Do you remember Rachel? I'm not sure what her last name was."

Greg nodded never taking his eyes from the window.

"Apparently she was Taub's wife," Wilson told him.

"Her last name wasn't Taub. Hell, I don't even remember what it was and I barely remember her."

"It seems she was getting back at Taub for sleeping with a nurse at that teaching hospital in Princeton. Anyway, he threatened to leave her and she killed herself. Taub blames you."

Greg turned to Wilson who took a few steps back. The look on Greg's face sent chills down Wilson's spine. He held up his hands.

"I'm just passing along the information I got," Wilson told him.

"That little bastard kidnapped Allison and then tried to kill her because he couldn't keep it in his pants?" Greg asked in a dangerously soft voice. "He's blames me for his wife's death because he fucked around and she decided to get back at him?"

"That's what he told Amber."

Greg turned back to the window and silence descended on them. Wilson stood at Greg's side for over three hours before speaking again.

"Taub is in Egyptian custody and will stand trial here," Wilson said. "He'll never leave Egypt."

Greg stood back from the door. "The surgeon is coming. Don't ever mention Taub's name to me again."

Wilson nodded and stood back. The surgeon opened the door and looked at Greg with a smile.

"Your wife will be fine, Professor," the surgeon told Greg. "We will keep her here for perhaps a week. She is severely dehydrated but the bullet did not damage any major arteries. Mrs. House will need physical therapy and perhaps a plastic surgeon when you return to America. I feel she will be ready to travel in perhaps a month. Is this agreeable to you? I will see her each week once she is discharged and I will know more as she recovers."

Greg nodded and thanked the surgeon. "When can I see her?"

"I will have a nurse take you to the room we are preparing for Mrs. House. She will be taken there in an hour or so."

"Thank you," Greg said and the surgeon walked back toward the operating rooms.

Once the doctor was out of earshot, Wilson looked at Greg with a grin. "Your wife?"

"Oh, shut up. The nurse is coming."


	15. Chapter 15

Greg sat in the chair next to Allison's hospital bed with a pad of paper on his lap. He idly twirled a pen between his fingers. Listening to the steady sounds of her monitors, he watched her sleep. Well, not sleep so much as lie unconscious due to the drugs being pumped into her system to keep her from waking and feeling the pain from her gunshot wound and subsequent surgery. The doctor was also pumping fluids into her because she was severely dehydrated. Then there were the antibiotics for the cuts she sustained when she broke the window; all these injuries so soon after receiving a head injury at the dig site.

Reaching out, he traced the curve of her cheek. Allison was pale and her skin was dry to his touch. He'd put her in harm's way one time too often. Two days ago he'd been planning their future when it occurred to him that he'd nearly caused her death twice. She deserved to be safe. So, he quickly wrote a note and propped it on her bedside table. He placed the pad and pen next to it. Standing, he leaned down and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then he quietly left her room.

Before leaving the hospital, he made certain all her medical expenses were taken care of so that she would have one less thing to worry about.

* * *

The hotel room they shared was eerily quiet. Greg looked around and saw that the room was clean. When he reached into the closet to retrieve his suitcase, he saw Allison's sitting on the floor next to his. He already made arrangements for Allison to stay at the hotel as long as she needed. Greg also left a plane ticket for her at the front desk when she was well enough to travel. Now, he simply needed to pack his things and get Wilson to take care of Allison. Greg tossed all his belongings into his suitcase and backpack. As he was finishing, Wilson entered the room.

"What was that cryptic text that you sent me? And why are you packed?" Wilson asked suspiciously.

"I need you to stay here and take care of Allison."

"Why?"

Greg sighed. He should know better by now. Things were never simple with Wilson. He always had to argue and poke and prod until Greg lost his temper.

"Twice, Wilson," he responded sharply. "She nearly died twice because of me. Allison deserves better."

"Oh, bullshit! You're scared so you're running away from the love of your life. She loves you, House. She understands you and won't take your shit. You need her and that terrifies you."

"Are you going to take care of her or not?" Greg asked in exasperation.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize I had to get your permission to travel. I'm going to None of Your Damn Business."

Wilson put his hands on his hips. "If you leave like this, she may never forgive you. But that's what you're counting on, isn't it?"

Greg took several deep breaths to calm him. "Will you stay and take care of her or not?"

"Yeah," Wilson responded. "I'll do what you won't."

Greg nodded and walked out the door. Wilson looked down at the floor and sighed.

* * *

A year passed and no one heard anything from Greg. He was perfectly happy with that. He spent the year at a dig deep in the Amazon Rain Forest. He didn't bother to get to know the other archeologists and simply did his job. He did spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about Allison. Guilt swarmed over him whenever he thought about how he left her but he didn't think he had any other option.

Now he was back in New Jersey. He sat in the back of a taxi and tried not to think about Allison. She was probably in Chicago. He thought about calling Wilson but decided to wait until he got settled in his apartment.

The taxi driver stopped in front of Greg's apartment and turned to tell him the fare amount. Greg paid him, grabbed his luggage and got out. As the taxi drove away, he walked up the two steps to the main door and opened it. Dropping his luggage, he pulled his keys out of his pocket. As he inserted the key into the lock, he could hear the faint sound of music coming from his apartment. Carefully, he opened the door and closed it silently. Now that he was inside the apartment, he could hear the music more clearly. Someone was playing one of his blues albums and that someone was moving around in the kitchen. Greg looked around for something to use as a weapon and stopped. All the dustcovers that he used to cover his furniture before he left were gone. A vase of fresh flowers sat on his piano. He moved silently into the apartment. The grey walls were now painted a soft shade of cream. Cream and black striped curtains hung at the windows. A plush cream blanket was draped neatly over the back of his leather sofa. A black and cream toile covered chair sat between the coffee table and piano. His guitars still hung on the wall behind his piano and his TV cart was pushed back against the bookshelf. The fireplace and hearth were spotless as was the wood floor. A dark red carpet under the coffee table lent a splash of color to the room.

"So, you finally made it home," Allison commented from the doorway to the kitchen. "I'm making myself some dinner but there's enough for you. Go get cleaned up and we'll eat."

Greg stared at her in disbelief. She wore one of his old t-shirts over a pair of yoga pants. Her hair was twisted in a haphazard knot on the top of her head and she looked perfectly healthy, perfectly beautiful and sexy as hell.

"How did you get in?" he finally managed to ask.

"Wilson," she replied before returning to the kitchen.

Greg slowly turned and went out to get his things. He carried them to his bedroom and found more traces of Allison. The walls were painted a pale blue and shimmery silver curtains hung at the window. A ridiculous amount of pillows sat atop a blue and silver comforter on the bed. A soft cotton nightgown and plush robe hung on the door leading to the bathroom. Her perfume, brush and comb were lined up neatly on the dresser. He dropped his things on the floor and returned to the kitchen. Allison was putting chili into two bowls.

"Didn't you get the note?" he asked.

"Yep," she replied as she walked past him to the couch. She set the bowls down and returned to the kitchen. She grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and then got two spoons and napkins.

"Why aren't you in Chicago?" he asked as she sat down.

Allison opened her beer and took a long swallow.

"I was so pissed off when I read that ridiculous letter," she told him. "You are an idiot. Those things that happened weren't your fault. In fact, it's Taub's fault for being a psychopath. You can't control everything. I could walk out across the street tomorrow and get hit by a bus. The one thing you can control is how you feel about me. You love me and I love you. You wanted to live with me so here I am. Now, you can be a cowardly asshole and send me away or you can take a chance and see what happens."

Allison picked up the remote and turned on the television. She didn't look at him as she began to eat. Greg walked over to the couch and sat down beside her. He picked up his bowl of chili and tasted it. It was delicious and he emptied his bowl quickly. Opening his beer, he sat back and put his feet on the coffee table.

"I suppose you painted the bathroom," he commented.

"I did. Sage green. I also bought new towels and had the room professionally cleaned," she said looking at him with a slight tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow.

He stared at the television. Several people in a workroom of some sort were fighting. "What the hell are we watching?"

"Project Runway."

Greg drank some more of his beer. "Are you still pissed?"

Allison set her empty bowl on the coffee table next to her beer bottle. "Maybe."

Greg nodded and drank his beer. "You should be. I don't deserve a second chance." Leaning forward, he set his bottle on the table.

Allison focused on the television. "I didn't say that." She turned to look at him. "I have to admit that I find this whole rough and tumble look incredibly sexy."

He looked at her in surprise but she simply leaned forward and kissed him. Her lips and tongue teased his mouth until he opened it. As her tongue slid into his mouth, she sighed. Greg pulled her close against his chest. Her firm breasts rubbed against him and he felt a shock of desire run through him. A year was a long time and his erection strained against his pants. Picking her up, he carried her into the bedroom. She clawed at his shirt, tearing it open and sending buttons pinging all over the room. Everything faded away but her. His whole world consisted of her mouth, tongue, hands and pliant body. Within seconds they were both naked and Greg lifted her up. Wrapping her legs around him, she allowed him to slam into her body. Her nails clawed his shoulders as she thrust roughly against him. The wall was hard and unyielding against his back and her heels dug into the backs of his thighs. Her teeth clamped down on his shoulder but he didn't feel any pain, only intense, overwhelming desire. Their moans echoed throughout the room and he felt wetness run down his legs as her inner muscles clamped down on him and she groaned his name. Then his own orgasm shook him and he spasmed as they slid to the floor.

He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "I won't leave you again."

"I'll just track you down," she smiled.

Pushing himself up, he lifted her to her feet and led her to the bed. Soon they were burrowed beneath the covers.

"Does this mean you forgive me for leaving like I did?" he asked sleepily.

"You are like a dog with a bone. Yes, I forgive you. But if you do something that stupid again, I won't be waiting for you.

"I won't. I love you."

He could feel her smile against his shoulder. "I love you, too." She yawned. "We should get some sleep. The new bedroom furniture arrives tomorrow."

He shifted to look at her and the bed creaked and groaned.

"We need something sturdy," she told him.

After several moments of silence, he spoke. "I like the changes you've made. Not just in the apartment but in me. You've changed the way I see things; the things I want."

"You did the same for me. That's why I came here."

"I'm glad you did."

Allison gently kissed his neck. "Welcome home, Greg."


End file.
